


Same Disease

by michael_lives_on



Category: American Horror Story
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:25:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17541755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michael_lives_on/pseuds/michael_lives_on
Summary: You and Michael Langdon were destined to be together. You're just alike and so different at the same time. You complete each other, feel each other's pain, darkness and sorrow, and can heal each other's wounds. This is a story of twisted love and toxic passion, in which you and Michael bring the end of the world together. (I know it's not for everyone. Don't read if you're not in for the ride.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning of the story may seem tame but don't let that fool you. This will get very dark very fast. Consider yourselves warned XD

_April 2020_

You sit in front of the mirror, admiring your makeup as you brush your hair. It looks good, but it’s not enough. It has to be perfect. The room is still and completely silent. You can hear the ticking of the clock on the wall. It sounds eerie in that moment, as you wait for the world to end. You almost can’t believe the day has come. Your body is trembling from the emotion while you ponder everything that has happened in the past two years that led to you being here in this moment. Every choice and mistake, everything you lost and gained, all the pain and pleasure and sacrifices. Was it all worth it? You don’t know yet.  
  
The door opens and Michael steps in the room. You watch him approach in the mirror and close your eyes when he sets his hand on your shoulder, his fingers brushing along the collar around your neck. He kisses the top of your head once and whispers: “It is time.”  
  
You get up on your feet and turn around to face him. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer as you place your hands on his chest, looking up into his eyes. “We’re making a better world… Right?”  
  
He smiles and caresses your cheek with his knuckles. “Yes.” he promises.

  
You push yourself up on your toes to press a kiss on his lips and he squeezes you in his arms tight enough to leave bruises. He’s nervous too. You can see it in the way his eyes are searching for your approval, in the way his hands don’t seem to want to part from your body. He wants you to reassure him that this is what he should be doing.  
  
”If it’s the only way, then it’s how it’s got to be,” you tell him, fixing his tie and coat. “I believe in you, Master.”  
  
He kisses your forehead in response and takes your hand in his. You walk out of your house together. The morning wind hits you in the face. A neighbor, completely unaware of what is going to happen, waves friendly at you. He doesn’t realize who you really are, or who the man that’s holding your hand is. You wave back at him and look around at all the houses that you grew up seeing every day. Soon they’ll all be gone. Soon there will be nothing left but dust.  
  
You get into the car and Michael follows you, placing his hand on your leg before waving at the driver to start the vehicle. He taps his fingers on your knees, moving slowly up and down as you stare out the window, feeling the most grim deja-vu you’ve ever experienced.  
  
”What’s wrong?” Michael asks, noticing the way your wide eyes keep glaring into nowhere. He clasps onto your chin and gently turns your head towards him. “Are you scared?”  
  
You let out a dry laugh and shake your head. “No… I was just thinking about how it all started with a car just like this one for me. Actually…” You glide your hand over the seat, feeling the familiar texture of cold, hard leather. “I think it might have been this exact same car that came to pick me up back then.”  
  
”Really?” he asks.  
  
”Yes,” you whisper, as your mind takes you back to that evening that changed your life forever.

  
                                                            - - - _  
_

__  
March 2018  
  
It was dark and cold for a spring evening. That’s the first thing you remember.   
  
A black limo with dark windows arrived in front of your house at 6:30 PM , just like you were told it would. Not a moment earlier or later. You had your best dress on and your most expensive pair of shoes, but you still looked and felt too cheap to be seen in such a ride. The chauffeur got out and opened the door for you, just to make it all more extra. You gave him your best fake smile and saw one of the neighbors staring at you suspiciously as you got into the car. She was probably wondering what the Hell were you doing in a limo. You were wondering the same thing. It was all because of Jessica.  
  
Jessica Palmer used to live in the same neighborhood as you when you were growing up. Your parents and hers were friends and they would spend a lot of time together. You and Jessica were like sisters, but you were completely different. Jessica had many boyfriends from a very young age. You were scared of boys and avoided them. She was the popular kid in middle school. You were the lonely kid nobody bothered to bother. And in 2018, when you were both in your Senior year, Jessica was convinced that the world was soon going to end. You thought it was a bunch of bullshit.  
  
You can’t remember exactly when Jessica became obsessed with the Apocalypse, but it was sometime after her 17th birthday, when her father became the CEO of that large tech company, which made his family go from low-middle class to filthy rich over night. It was like winning the lottery, but better. Money seemed to be pouring all over them constantly. Jessica appeared happy on the surface, but deep inside, she was terrified. She only showed that to you.  
  
”Nothing is what it seems to be,” she told you one night, during a sleepover. “The world is ruled from the shadows by a powerful organization and no has any idea. And do you know who leads them all?” You shrugged confused and she just whispered: “Satan.”  
  
You had heard conspiracy theories that sounded similar, but Jessica wasn’t the type of person who’d believe such things. At first you thought she might be high. It wouldn’t have been the first time she came to your house drugged. But she kept talking to you about this secret organization that she called ‘The Cooperative’ and how they would be the only ones left after the world ends. You didn’t argue with her about it or contradicted her, but you never took her seriously.  
  
Then she started claiming to have met the Biblical Antichrist. That was when you really began worrying about her mental state. Her stories sounded so far fetched, it was almost ludicrous. Yet she was consistent about it and so convinced in what she was saying, that it made you question yourself and your rational thinking by actually considering her mad ideas. So, when she invited you to come join her family for dinner and meet this so called Antichrist, you accepted. You felt like you needed to know what the Hell was going on in her house. Had they all gone mad after becoming rich?  
  
The ride to her house was slow, lonely and uneventful. You don’t recall much of it, except for the way it felt to be inside that car. How firm yet comfortable the leather felt, how nice it smelled, how there was a minibar standing right in front of you, almost inviting. You knew that if Jessica would have been with you she would have emptied all those bottles. Back then, you avoided alcohol and drugs. Now it almost amuses you to think about it.  
  
It took about 40 minutes to arrive to your friend’s house, and you were told that she’s waiting for you. You’d never been to her new house before, so two servants had to guide you around. It felt like a freaking castle - a mansion like you’d only seen in movies. The living-room alone was bigger than the entire second floor of your house. You found Jessica there, on the couch next to her mother. Her father was standing a few feet away from them, drinking a glass of whiskey. The atmosphere was tense and sober. They were all wearing black. No one was smiling. You almost found it hard to believe that they were the same people who used to gather in your back yard for barbecue every other weekend not too long ago.  
  
”Y/N, I’m glad you could come,” Mr. Palmer, acknowledging your presence there before anyone else did. “Mr. Langdon should arrive any minute now as well.”  
  
_’Langdon…’_  you repeated the name in your mind. That was what Jessica had told you the Antichrist’s name was. Hearing it said by her father made it seem almost surreal. “I’m happy to be here. Thanks for inviting me,” you replied.  
  
”I want to make one thing clear from the start,” he said, looking you in the eyes with the most grave expression you’d ever seen on a grown man. It was almost creepy. “If anyone asks, you were never here. Anything you see or hear tonight is classified information. If you disclose it to anyone, we will know. Langdon will know. And he will kill you.”  
  
Your lips parted in pure shock, and you babbled something, unsure of what to say. “I… I will not - I don’t plan to -”  
  
”It is just a warning,” the man interrupted you. “We care very much for you, Y/N. To me and my wife you’ve always been like a second daughter. So much so that we are willing to pay 100 million dollars for you to join us at the end.”  
  
”I’m sorry, what?” you asked, completely baffled by what you were hearing.  
  
”Don’t worry, dear, soon it will all make sense,” Jessica’s mother said sweetly, rising from the couch with a smile to come next to you. “My, you’ve grown taller!”  
  
She started asking you questions about your life and your parents, and the conversation to the normal, triviality you expected from the Palmers. But Jessica was silent, staring with empty eyes into nowhere and taping her foot on the floor nervously as she waited. Something was not right there and you were almost beginning to regret that you accepted the invitation. 

  
                                                           ***

  
Michael Langdon arrived at exactly 8 PM. You’ll never forget the first time you saw him, when he entered in the room as if he was parading at a fashion show. His hair was short, curly and blonde. His eyes a beautiful shade of baby blue. Full lips and a childish face, symmetrical and perfect like a porcelain doll. He looked not a day older than you - possibly younger - and he was as beautiful as an Angel painted by Michelangelo.  _‘This is the Antichrist?’_  you thought to yourself. You had to pinch your arm in order not to laugh. The thought seemed hilarious.  
  
”She is the girl we’ve told you about,” Mr. Palmer introduced you.   
  
”Nice to meet you, sir,” you said, bowing your head in respect.  
  
He smirked, completely unimpressed by you at first glance, and said a simple “Hi.” before turning around to face Mr. Palmer again. “We have many things to talk about. Are you sure it’s okay for her to be here?”  
  
”She’d never betray us,” Jessica’s father vouched for you. “And even if she tried to spill anything… Who would believe her?”  
  
”That is very true,” Michael laughed.  
  
You all moved to the dining room and began your late dinner. Michael sat at the head of the table, with you and Jessica on one side and her parents facing you. They started chatting right away, talking about war, nuclear bombs and the construction of some sort of underground bunkers that they called ‘Outposts’. It was the same kind of crap Jessica had been telling you, but far more detailed. Everyone was tense, except for Michael, who talked so nonchalantly about wiping 99% of humanity off the planet, it was almost nauseating. _’This can’t be real…’_  you kept telling yourself. You were almost expecting one of them to start laughing hysterically and tell you it was all a joke they’d played on you. Only then it would have made sense.  
  
Although the food was delicious, you barely ate any of it. You mostly moved it around in your plate, focusing more on hearing what was being said and trying to process it, trying to come to terms with the fact that this was all real. By the time everyone was done eating and returned to the living room, you were feeling hungry, confused and nervous. You just wanted to go home, lock yourself in your room and forget everything about that night. Even forget everything about Jessica, though you still cared for her.  
  
”You,” Michael said, fully acknowledging you for the first time that night. “We need to talk in private.”  
  
”We can leave you two alone,” Jessica offered right away.  
  
Michael shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. Me and her will go to the pool. I like it there.” He started walking away and you remained frozen in place, watching him. The idea of being alone with him was a bit scary to you at the time. You did not believe that he was the Antichrist, but you were convinced he was, at the very least, a psychopath. He turned to look at you and slapped his leg gently, as if you were a dog he wanted to call. “Come. Follow me.”  
  
Jessica nudged you forward so you sighed and went ahead. Michael walked with his hands behind his back, looking only ahead, clearly knowing his way well around the house. His elegance and presence reminded you of a Prince, but everything he’d said that night made you think of Ted Bundy if he’d been a politician. You were fascinated by him and at the same time, you wanted to have nothing to do with him.  
  
”Jessica told me a lot about you,” he said, once you were out of the house.   
  
The lights in the pool were turned on, illuminating the area and giving the water the most beautiful, bright blue color. You stared at it to avoid his gaze. “She does like to talk a lot.”  
  
”You clearly don’t. You haven’t said a word during the whole dinner.”  
  
You shrugged, stepping closer to the water. “There wasn’t much for me to say. You guys were… planning the Apocalypse.”  
  
”Which you find absurd,” Michael guessed. “You came here to convince yourself of something, and even after all you’ve heard, you still don’t believe. Is it really more plausible to you that your best friend, as well as her both parents, have all lost their mind?”  
  
It was like he was reading your thoughts. You felt your mouth drying and licked your lips, then let out a nervous laughter. “I don’t know what I believe… This is all crazy.”  
  
”Is it faith in God that makes this so hard for you to believe? Or is it that you have no faith at all?”  
  
You turned around to face him and found him smiling. It wasn’t an amused or sarcastic smile. It was a seductive one. He was trying to appeal to you. He didn’t have to try very hard. You were already attracted to him, which only bothered you more.  
  
”My mom told me the whole God and Jesus and the Devil thing. I never believed it. If God is real, why would he let so many people suffer? And if Satan’s real, wouldn’t he reward bad people instead of punishing them?” you asked.  
  
”What makes you think my Father punishes anyone?” he asked back.  
  
”Your father…” you repeated, nodding slowly. “You really believe you are the Devil’s son?”  
  
You gazed into his eyes and they radiated with power, making you feel small all of a sudden. Making you feel inferior. “You think I’m being misled,” he said. “That I’m some rich boy with terrible parents who was forced to think he’s evil and who now wants to destroy the world.”  
  
It was exactly what you believed. He read you like an opened book and it sent shivers down your back. “Who told you that you’re the Antichrist?”   
  
”No one had to tell me. Come closer. Come.”  
  
You hesitantly walked closer to him, and he turned his head to the side and pulled his hair out of the way, showing you a mark he had on his skull. 666. Even with your limited Bible knowledge, you still knew that was the number of the Devil. The mark of the Beast.  _‘It could be a tattoo,’_ you thought, but as you looked at it better, you realized it was a birth mark. He’d most likely been born with it.  
  
”Oh my God…” you whispered.  
  
”The Palmers care about you very much,” he said, hiding the mark back behind his hair and locking your gaze with his. “They’re willing to pay the price for your ticket into one of the Outposts. But that’s not enough for me. You’ll have to prove to me that you’re worthy of living in my world.”  
  
”I’m not…” you told him.  
  
He was taken back by your answer, because he frowned in confusion. “Excuse me?”  
  
”If this is all true, if the Apocalypse will come and most of humanity will die, then I don’t deserve to be among the 1% who get to live. There’s nothing special about me. So no one has to pay anything for me. I’d rather be in the blast and go out with everyone else.”  
  
Michael was silent for a moment, just staring at you intrigued. He seemed to be searching for something. His eyes burned through you and you left your head down. “People who are not afraid to die are already dead inside,” he said, placing his hand on your cheek and making you look at him again. “Who killed you?”  
  
”I… I’m sorry?” you rambled.  
  
”Someone hurt you. Badly. A man.” You trembled and closed your eyes and he moved even closer to you, so close that you could feel his body touching yours. “There’s so much darkness in you…” he whispered. “You try so hard to be a good girl, because you’re afraid of the monster that lives inside you. That wants to tear everyone apart. Am I wrong?”  
  
”What do you want from me?” you asked, your eyes still closed, your body shaking.  
  
”I want to set you free.” He told you and you finally opened your eyes again. “I don’t want to destroy the world. I want to make a new one. A better one. Free of the bullshit rules humanity has lived by until now. Free of people like him.”  
  
”How… How do you know?”  
  
He smiled and caressed your hair. “It’s in your head and I can see it. You want to kill him, don’t you?”  
  
”I don’t want to talk about it.”  
  
”Is he the reason why you’re still a virgin?”  
  
You pushed him away and took a few steps back, wrapping your arms around yourself defensively. It was too much. He knew too much. It made memories that you’ve been trying to forget come back to you. The things he seemed to know where secrets you’d never told anyone. Not even to Jessica.  
  
”Who the fuck are you…” you asked, though you already knew.  
  
He didn’t answer; he just started walking backwards, until he got to the edge of the pool. Then he kept walking, his feet stepping onto the water as if it was solid ground. Your mouth opened in amazement, your heart pounding inside of your chest. He smiled brightly, full of arrogance, spreading his arms as he kept strolling around on the water.  
  
”Who do you think I am?”  
  
You shook your head in denial, a sinking feeling of terror taking over you, then you turned around and ran off. He laughed loudly, so loud that you could still hear him until you were back inside the house. You paced around, searching for Jessica, but couldn’t find her. You found a servant instead, and told her you wanted to leave. She took you to the chauffeur and a few minutes later you were back inside the limo, heading home.  
  
As the Palmer’s mansion was disappearing from your view, Michael Langdon’s image kept playing on repeat inside your head. Everything he said, everything he knew, that birthmark, what he did… You had accepted to go meet him so you could get rid of your doubts that Jessica’s deranged ideas of the Apocalypse could be right, and left feeling certain of them yourself. The world would end. That beautiful boy… He was the fucking Antichrist. It was all real.   
  
You were still in the car when you recieved a message from Jessica on your phone.  **‘Michael was really impressed by you. He said he will let you join us in one of the Outposts for free! What the fuck did you do??’** You almost dropped your phone once you were done reading it. It made your skin crawl. You thought this would be the end of you, but it was just the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

“You shouldn’t have stormed out like that last night. I was worried,” Jessica told you the next day, when you met in front of the school.

”I don’t think you understand. The man walked on the fucking water!” you aggressively whispered, looking around to make sure nobody could hear you.  
  
There was no one there though. The classes were about to start and the yard was empty. You had not slept all night and the dark circles around your eyes proved it, but Jessica seemed more fresh than ever. Her makeup and hair were flawless and she was smoking a cigarette calmly as she watched you freak out. There was nothing left of the nervous wreck she’d been 12 hours earlier.  
  
”Yeah, he performs miracles like that sometimes,” she shrugged nonchalantly, blowing a cloud of smoke into your face. “He’s kind of like Jesus, but like evil and really hot.” She giggled then turned serious for a moment. “Don’t tell him I said that though. The comparison might offend him. He’s touchy, you know?”

”Don’t worry. I won’t tell him because I never plan to see him again.”  
  
”You’ll have to anyway. I told you, he liked you. He agreed to let you into one of the Outposts for free.”  
  
”I still don’t get what all that’s about. I mean, who else got a free ticket?”  
  
Jessica laughed so hard, she choked on the smoke she was trying to inhale. “No one. You’re the only person in the world to ever get a free ride. And by the way, you’ll have to tell me how the Hell did you manage to do that. What did you tell him?”  
  
You shook your head slowly and raised your shoulders. You had not been able to sleep at all that night. Michael Langdon’s image and the short conversation you’d had with him kept playing on repeat in your brain, over and over again, making you feel dizzy and sick to your stomach with anxiety. They kept playing even while you were standing there with your back against the school fence, talking to Jessica, and yet you still couldn’t make sense of them.  
  
”I seriously have no idea why he’s shown any interest in me,” you said. “We barely spoke. And the small conversation we did have was insignificant”  
  
”Well, you said or did something that he liked. A lot.” You moved around uncomfortably and she rolled her eyes at you. “Girl, calm the Hell down. I didn’t think you’d be so scared. This is a good thing!”  
  
”You and me clearly have very different ideas of a ‘good thing’, Jess. Why did you drag me into all this? What about that ‘sharing this with anyone gets you killed’ rule? Does that not apply to you or what?”  
  
”Of course it does. Why do you think I was nearly pissing myself yesterday? If Langdon would have thought you ‘unworthy’, it would have been my head on the line. Quite literally. He would have made my head explode. I’ve seen him do it to others before.”  
  
Looking into her eyes, you knew she was not joking or exaggerating. You tried to imagine what someone’s head exploding would look like and were shocked by how little the resulting mental image disturbed you. It was your friend’s sheer stupidity that you found far more appalling. “Why would you put yourself in so much danger for me?”   
  
”Because I care about you, bitch. You could at least be a little grateful. Would you prefer dying?”  
  
”Yes!” You yelled. “Yes, if the Apocalypse will come, I don’t want to survive it. I told that to Langdon as well last night. And I meant it.”  
  
Jessica took one more puff of her cigarette while staring at you, then threw the bud on the ground and stepped on it hard. “Well I’m sorry for giving a fuck. But it’s too late. You’re in now. So get used to it.” She started walking towards the school, but you didn’t follow her, so she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “You coming?”  
  
”No,” you decided. “Why bother? The world is soon gonna end anyway.”  
  
She didn’t even reply; she just turned her back to you and walked into the school. It was the first time you and her had a fight and it stung so badly because you needed her more than ever.  
  
You left, unsure of where you were going. Your legs used muscle memory to guide you, taking you down familiar places you often frequented. Going home was not an option - your parents would ask questions and it wasn’t like you could explain to them why you didn’t feel like attending school that day - and the only friend you had was angry at you. In times like that, you really wished you’d have someone else to rely on other than Jessica. But you didn’t have anyone, so you just wondered around aimlessly, with a million thoughts circulating through your brain.  
  
It wasn’t that you were scared, like Jessica had assumed. You felt wounded. Michael Langdon had managed to drag all of the skeletons right out of the darkest corners of your closet and bring them out into the light. That bothered you more than his obvious magic powers and the fact that he was, indeed, the spawn of Satan. No one had ever known your secrets before. No one had ever been able to see so easily through your mask.   
You walked lonely and unbothered for about 40 minutes, until a black BMW appeared seemingly out of nowhere and stopped right in front of you. A man you’d never seen before stepped out and came right at you. He was wearing sunglasses and an elegant, dark blue suit, but something about him made you feel uneasy.   
  
”Mister Langdon wants to speak to you. Get in the car.”  
  
That was exactly what you feared he’d say. You squeezed the stripes of your backpack in your hands and mentally put on your most defensive and confident mask. “You can tell Mister Langdon that I do not wish to see him and that he can go fuck himself,” you said.  
  
”Now that is just rude,” a familiar voice commented from inside the car. One of the windows opened and you saw Michael on the back seats, a displeased look on his beautiful face. Your heart dropped into your stomach and you involuntary took a step back. It had not occurred to you that he might actually be there. You thought he’d just sent some bullies to come bring you to wherever he lived. ”Is this how you treat all your friends?”  
  
”You are not my friend.”  
  
”I’m hurt. Truly.” He turned his head away from you and said, on the coldest tone you’d ever heard: “Get the fuck in the car, Y/N.”  
  
You listened because you didn’t want to make things worse. And because, deep inside, you were as intrigued by him as he was by you, though you’d never admit to that. He moved to the side to make room for you, with a satisfied little smirk on his face. The driver only got back in the car once your door was shut and locked.  
  
”What do you want from me?” you asked.  
  
”I want nothing from you,” he said. “I just simply want  _you_.”  
  
”But why? Why me?”  
  
”Because we’re the same, you and I.” He took your hand in his and gave it a squeeze as the car began moving. “We have the same disease.”  
  
”What disease is that?” you asked.  
  
He looked blankly into nowhere for a moment, searching for the right words, and eventually just said one: “Pain.”  
  
You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you said nothing. His words made you blush though, and you turned your head to look out the window but you didn’t let go of his hand. It felt nice to hold onto it.

 

                                                           ***

   
Michael’s house was not at all what you’d imagined. You expected a huge mansion like the Palmers had, or some sort of castle fit for a dark Lord. Instead, you ended up in one of the most unimpressive looking houses from a boring California suburb. It wasn’t terrible, just painfully underwhelming. Michael dismissed the driver before welcoming you inside. The interior of the was rather plain as well, except for some satanic pieces and decorations that would have made your grandmother feel the need to say some prayers.  
  
”You don’t like it,” Michael concluded by the expression on your face, as he shut the door behind you.  
  
”No,” you replied. “I just… I was expecting more from your house, I guess.”  
  
”This isn’t my house,” he said, which only confused you more.  
  
”Then whose house is it?”  
  
”Mine,” a voice from behind you said. You turned around and saw a woman standing there. She was short and grumpy, wearing dark makeup and a haircut that you thought did not fit someone of her age. She didn’t seem at all friendly, but Michael’s face lit up with joy at the sight of her. “I am Michael’s assistant.”  
  
”Ms. Mead is like a mother to me,” he corrected her, and the woman smiled proudly.  
  
”Oh, I see,” you said, though you didn’t understand at all what the Hell was going on. A bunch of questions rose up in your mind, like did Michael even had a real mother to begin with and was that woman a human at all or some sort of demon? You kept all that for yourself though and tried to be polite. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. I am Y/N.”  
  
”Michael told me about you. You’re not as pretty as he described.”  
  
 _’Well fuck you, lady.’_  you thought.  
  
”Don’t listen to her,” Michael chuckled. “She doesn’t like the idea of me being with someone. Come. Let’s go to my room.”  
  
You followed him fast, happy to get away from his creepy mom. But what he’d just said gave you a strange feeling in your stomach, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. ”Is that what you want?” you asked, as soon as you were alone in his room. “To be with me? You want to… date me?”  
  
”Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it dating, but I do want to be with you. I want you to be my slave.”  
  
You let out a loud, nervous laughter when you heard that, hoping that he was joking. But he wasn’t. He remained serious and kept staring at you intently until you stopped laughing and shook your head. “Does this work for you generally?”  
  
”Yes, actually. People tend to throw themselves at my feet as soon as they find out who I really am. And the ones who didn’t do it willingly were forced to eventually. But I don’t want that to be the case with you. I want you to give yourself to me of your own free will.”  
  
”And why the Hell would I ever do that?”  
  
”Because I can give you what you’ve always wanted,” he said, moving closer to you.  
  
”Really?” You had to take a deep breath in to maintain your calm. He had the strangest effect on you. The closer he got, the more you wanted to throw yourself at him, and fighting that urge took all your willpower. “And what would that be?”  
  
”I can make you feel clean again,” he whispered, getting so close that his lips brushed on yours. You closed your eyes, your heart beating harder into your chest, wondering if he was going to kiss you. Hoping he would. “If you give yourself to me, you will be mine. Only mine. Forever. And I can erase the memories of everyone else who crossed your path. Everyone else who ever… touched you.”   
  
He brushed his fingertips on your neck and you couldn’t handle it anymore. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, pushing yourself up on your toes to get to his level. He was much taller than you. You’d kissed a couple boys before, but you’d never kissed anyone like that. Not with that passion, that hunger. Your tongue explored his mouth as your fingers dug into his hair, holding him tight and bringing him even closer. He allowed you that small moment of control, before grasping your throat in his hand and pushing you against the wall behind you, holding you still and pulling away from the kiss.  
  
”Is that a yes?” he asked.  
  
”You’re good at this mind reading game…” you told him, your voice soft and breathless. “But you got it wrong. All I ever wanted was for someone who’d make me not want to die anymore.”  
  
His eyes filled up with tears, and though he didn’t cry, you were able to see on his face that he understood. That he, somehow, could relate to you. Truly relate. He’d been hurt too. You didn’t know how or when or by whom, but you could feel it. There was a time when he had also wished for death.  
  
”Live for me,” he asked. It was an invitation and a plea at the same time. “Live for me and I will change your life forever. I will turn all your pain into pleasure. And I will help you get revenge. All you have to do is say ‘yes’.”  
  
It was like making a deal with the Devil. There was death, darkness and fire in his eyes. But the same dark energy had been burning in your soul for as long as you could remember. You’d always thought you’d never find anyone who could truly understand you and now that you felt you had, you didn’t want to blow it. Of course, it could have all been a trick and you knew that. But it felt worth it. What did you have to lose anyway? The world was going to end regardless of the decision you took. The only regret you could have would be not allowing yourself this chance.  
  
”Yes…” you said, looking him right in the eyes. “I give myself to you. I’ll live for you.”  
  
He smiled and removed his hand from your throat, pulling you closer and kissing you. You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist, and he closed his arms around your back to hold you. It was like a switch had been turned on in your brain. One that removed all your masks and blocked all of your insecurities. You didn’t know what would come next or how much your life would change, but in that moment you felt ready for anything. 


	3. Chapter 3

When you said yes to Michael, you had no idea what that would entail. You were taken by the heat of the moment and the feelings that he awoke in you. The desire, the lust. And you were not the only one who lost her head around him. Everyone seemed to be so easily tempted by his charms. He was like a walking aphrodisiac.  
  
The very next day, he gave you a set of rules that you were to follow religiously. Some were simple things that you expected, such as only addressing him as ‘Sir’ or ‘Lord’, asking him before taking any major decision, accepting his Father as your new God, not touching yourself without his permission and being always available for him, at any hour of any day. No big deal. But others were strange. They were not even rules, they were changes that he wanted you to make, mostly in your appearance.  
  
”You want me to dye my hair red?” You asked him, over the phone, while reading over the rules he’d just sent you in an email.  
  
”Yes,” he replied.  
  
”But why?”  
  
”I like red.” 

You rolled your eyes at his answer, yet didn’t argue. That was rule 11. ‘No arguing with your Master unless you want to be punished.’ And you did not want to be punished, that was for sure. “Okay, but what about this gaining 20 pounds thing? That’s the strangest request by far.”  
  
”Have you seen yourself in the mirror, darling? You look like you might die of starvation before the Apocalypse even comes and I can’t have that. So yes, I want you to gain some weight.”  
  
”I am not starving. I eat plenty,” you pouted.  
  
”Eat some more.”  
  
You wanted to protest, but once again, you remained silent and agreed. The truth was that you had not been eating enough. You’d never eaten enough. As many other girls, you were a firm believer in the fact that being as skinny as possible meant looking beautiful, so you’d tried so hard to maintain the smallest number possible on the scales.  
  
Because of Michael, you did something you’d never even imagined you could do. You cut down on your exercise and started eating until you were full, indulging into delicious cakes and high carb foods. The pounds began pilling up in no time, and for the first time ever, you were happy about it. Your parents hated it when you dyed your hair, but you didn’t care. You’d look at yourself in the mirror, admiring your red hair and your slowly changing body, and you felt like a new person. As if the old you was dying a bit more every day, making room for a brand new Y/N, one without any pain or insecurities, one that had never suffered, one that was made for Michael Langdon and that lived only for him.  
  
You soon came to realize that was why he’d set those rules for you to begin with.  
  
One of the many men working for him would come pick you up from school every day, to take you to his house. You never had sex with him though. He would just teach you things, like certain positions he wanted you to perfect, how to speak to him, how to beg, how to properly suck his cock. It was all very educational. You enjoyed it, though it felt like the most intense, long lasting teasing known to mankind. He was trying to prepare you for him, so that you wouldn’t be emotionally damaged by the things he had in store for you, and that was nice, even if your body felt neglected, and your thirst for him had reached the level of a man wondering through the Sahara with no water.  
  
You had to tell your parents that you’d joined the Art Club in order to explain why you all of a sudden came home that late every day. They believed you, since they knew you’d always been interested in art. It all worked well, until something that you had not been planning on happened. _  
_

_April 2018_

  
”From now on, you’ll stay here,” Michael announced, as soon as you got to his house that day.  
  
You dropped your backpack on the floor of his bedroom and stared at him in shock. “Excuse me?”  
  
”You heard me. You will not go back to your parents house and you will not go to school anymore. You are dropping out.”  
  
”Says who?”  
  
He raised his eyebrow at you, putting his hands behind his back and looking you up and down as if you were an idiot child. “Says your Master.”  
  
You had been his official slave for a whole month, but you were still not really used to it. Your rebellious nature held you back, as well as the fact that apart from giving you rules to follow and teaching you things, Michael had not really tried to dominate you yet. Even so, you knew talking back at him and disobeying him was a bad idea, so you apologized fast and bowed your head in shame.  
  
”I’m sorry, Sir… I just don’t understand why that would be necessary.”  
  
”It is necessary because your training is over,” he said. You had not been aware of that. “You are finally exactly what I wanted and I have nothing left to teach you, my little butterfly.”  
  
He’d never called you that before and the nickname made you squint uncomfortably. “Butterfly?” You didn’t feel like it fit you.  
  
”You were a small caterpillar when I met you, and I gave you wings.”  
  
You crossed your arms at your chest and raised an eyebrow. ”Just so that you can cage me.”  
  
”You are always free to go, if you so wish. Just know that in doing that, you will never see me again.” He looked at you, waiting. You didn’t move. “Do you want that? Do you want to go back to your old life? To the old you? To be without me?”  
  
”No,” you said, almost too fast. “No, I don’t… I want to stay with you.”  
  
He smiled and caressed your cheek. “Good.”  
  
”But… My parents. They will -”  
  
”I will take care of that,” he interrupted you. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. All you have to do, is say yes.”  
  
It was hard for you not to think about your mom and dad or how they would react if you never went back home. You knew they were going to be angry and then worried. That your mom was going to cry and your dad would contact the police. But you also knew that they would never find you and that being with Michael made you happier than being with them ever could. You took a deep breath in and closed your eyes, then nodded. “Yes.”   
  
Michael moved closer and kissed your forehead tenderly, then swiftly moved away from you. “Take off all of your clothes and lay on the bed,” he ordered and you started unbuttoning your shirt right away.  
  
You had never seen each other naked until then and you were not sure if he was going to remove his clothes as well, but you hoped he would. So far, the only part of him that you’d seen uncovered was his face and his cock. You wanted to see the rest of him. You wanted to touch him. To feel his body on yours. You were so excited about it, you didn’t even think about the scars on your arms and legs, that you were always afraid someone might discover. They were one of the main reason why, under normal circumstances, you’d never get naked in front of anyone. But in that moment you completely forgot about them, until you saw Michael staring at them after he was done tying your hands to the bedpost.  
  
”You’ve done this yourself.” He wasn’t asking. He was informing you that he knew. You bit your lower lip and nodded in return. “Do they bring you shame?”  
  
”Yes…” you confessed, your voice a mare whisper.  
  
He climbed on the bed, kneeling in between your legs and parting them wide. He looked at your naked body, examining you, taking in every single imperfection. You blushed, but you didn’t try to pull away from him or hide yourself. His fingers brushed against the scars on your thighs and he leaned in to kiss and lick them.  
  
”Then I will take them away and give you new ones.” he said.  
  
You had no idea what he meant, but the feeling of his lips and tongue on your flesh made you shiver. You let out a moan and pushed your hips up, trying to get closer to him, trying to get more. What you really wanted was to get his head between your legs. He realized that and pushed your body down into the mattress.  
  
”Be still,” he told you.  
  
It sounded like a warning, and you did your best to obey. He paid close attention to each one of the knife marks on your left thigh, then moved to the other. You could feel the heat rising up inside your belly.  _‘He’s still teasing me,’_  you thought. Your pussy was dripping wet, but he didn’t seem to care at all. When he moved up and started kissing and licking your arms as well, you finally got to see what he was doing. He was healing you. The scars you’ve had for years vanished underneath his touch, as if they never even existed.  
  
”Michael…” you breathed out, trying to reached for him, to kiss him.  
  
He slapped you so hard your ears rang and you closed your eyes tightly from the pain. “I don’t remember giving you permission to call me that. Or to speak for that matter.”  
  
”I… I’m sorry, Sir,” you whispered. “I want you.”  
  
He slapped you again. “You’re still talking.”  
  
You wanted to speak again, so you bit your tongue to shut yourself up. He was not messing around anymore. He’d been so kind and careful with you until then, almost romantic. The change was abrupt and shocking, though you had always known he’d eventually start being rough on you. A part of you was scared, while the other part of you thought him being mean was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen.  
  
”I was going to take it easy on you, because this is your first time. But since you’re such a desperate slut, I won’t bother.”  
  
You don’t know when he took off his clothes, and you’re not sure if it’s a lapse in your memory or if he just made them disappear through magic. All you remember is his naked body on top of yours, and the stinging pain as he penetrated you. It took your breath away and made you feel as if you’d been stabbed between the legs. You let out a breathless moan as your pussy contracted around his cock, and he started moving, thrusting hard in and out of you, not giving you any time to get used to it.  
  
It was savage. You could feel blood leaking down your ass cheeks. You could hear the bed rattling beneath you. Your vision was blurry, as if a dense fog had filled the room all of a sudden. You could still see Michael through it though. He looked beautiful even as he was tearing you apart. You felt so warm, inside and out.   
  
”Now you belong to me,” he told you. “Fully. Completely. You are mine.”  
  
You wanted to say something in return, but couldn’t find your voice, so you just nodded through your moans and kept squirming.   
  
”I will give you some new scars. And you will wear them with pride.”  
  
He grabbed your wrists in his hands, holding tightly, pushing you harder down onto the bed and moving his hips a bit faster. At first you didn’t feel anything, but after a few seconds the pain took over you and you moaned loudly. The pain was sharp and raw, as if blades were cutting into your skin, right where his hands were covering it. You thought it was just a weird sensation, until the blood started dripping onto your face. When he removed his hands, you saw the shapes of two pentagrams carved into your flesh, one on each wrist. Blood was gashing out of the wounds. You felt lightheaded and sick, but the pleasure his thrusts were providing you with made it more tolerable.  
  
”Does it feel good?” he asked. You just looked at him with eyes only half opened and he grabbed onto your neck and squeezed. “Answer me, bitch.”  
  
”Y-Yes, my Lord…” you managed to say. And it did. It felt amazing. You had never felt either pleasure or pain like that. You had never felt any emotions at that intensity before. “I love you…” You had also never told that to any other man before.  
  
Michael let go of your neck and kissed you, his tongue dancing around yours almost lovingly as his thrusts got more and more brutal. He came not long after, filling up your pussy with his warm cum. You almost collapsed, but he slapped your face hard to make you stay conscious. A bit too hard. Your nose started bleeding. The irony taste and smell of blood served to keep you grounded in reality as well.  
  
”You don’t honestly believe it’s over, do you? I’m still hard. And we have all night ahead of us.”  
  
You stared at him baffled and he untied your hands from the bedpost and pulled his cock out of you, just to flip you on your stomach and penetrate you again. He seemed to somehow be able to reach even deeper in from that position, which only made the pain worse. He pressed onto your head, pushing your face into the pillow hard enough so that you couldn’t breathe at all. The sound of your own muffled moans were all that you could hear. Your heart was racing and your body was tensing and spamming continuously.  _‘Oh my God, oh my God….’_ You kept saying to yourself in your mind. You wanted to scream.  
  
You did scream when he finally pulled your head up by your hair so you could breathe, and he covered your mouth with his hand. “Do you want the entire neighborhood to hear and know we brought a slut to the house? I wouldn’t mind it, but Mrs. Mead might have a word or two with you about it if that happens. So shut. The fuck. Up.”  
  
He kept going on and on, moving you in different positions, slapping you around whenever he felt like, choking you and pulling your hair. When he was finally done, four hours had passed and you had lost track of how many orgasms you’d both had, or how many times you’d collapsed and been brought back. All you knew was that there was cum overflowing out of your pussy, and the bed sheets beneath you were covered in blood.  
  
He wrapped you in his arms and brought you to his chest, pushing the hair out of your face so he could look at you. “Are you alright, butterfly?” he asked. It was like the man he had been for the past hours had fully disappeared, and he was back to his tender self that you knew. “Are you hurt?”  
  
You shook your head ‘no’ and smiled. “I feel.. really good…” You said. Your voice was hoarse and dry, so you cleared your throat and let out a little laugh. “That was amazing.”  
  
He smiled back at you and kissed your forehead. “Good. You should sleep now. You need to rest. Tomorrow we have a long day ahead.”  
  
He pulled the covers on top of your bodies with magic, not bothering to clean the sheets. “What are we doing tomorrow?” you asked, snuggling tight next to him.  
  
”You get to kill your first person,” he replied, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.


End file.
